Poets and writers drink more intensely. Smoke more intensely. Worship God more intensely. Poets and writers fuck more intensely. Poets and writers give more willingly-- spilling the alphabetical marrow of their souls out into the albino sonogram of hope that is the page, hoping some stranger whom he or she has never before met turns to his crafted syllables in time of dire need and somehow finds solace, finds laughter finds a friend.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Once again, Miley Cyrus and Lady Gaga showed up to one of my poetry readings and started taking their clothes off every time I read (Lady Gaga came dressed in an outfit made from an old TROLL book order form and Miley just pretty much got naked right away even though everyone thought she looked like Annie Lennox with that Robocop-tampon haircut) and once again, I ended the night reading excerpted hi-lighted junior high stanza's from THE BABYSITTERS CLUB and Miley and Gaga mistook it for Emily Dickinson and swore it was the most profound thing they simply had ever heard... after a great pain a formal feeling comes...sigh....
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.I was sitting next to her progenitor Billy Rae the whole time and all I could think of to say to assuage his achey-breaky heart was that my illegitimate daughter was at home right now reading the bible playing with that promise ring I gave her...
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